


The Last Homely House

by queefqueen



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, dwarfs are pigs, the midden is too good for them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queefqueen/pseuds/queefqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the many parts of "An Unexpected Journey" I hated was the behaviour of the Company in Imlardis. IMO Elrond should had flogged the scum and sent them on their way the next morning, stripped of possessions confiscated as payment for damages.<br/>Movieverse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Homely House

In the twilight of the dawn of a new summer day Elrond and Gandalf looked upon the dwarrow "camp". At the remnants of pieces of furniture – some thousands of years old – broken up and used to feed a fire, the unwashed bodies sprawling around said campfire, the grey bearded Balin taking a dump in the nearest bushes while the _ushanka_ wearing Bofur was peeing alongside and holding a fart-punctuated conversation.

"Elrond, please, do not cast them away! The very fate of Middle Earth may depend on this expedition! And that map!"

The Peredhel looked upon the Istar with disdain and disgust.

"And as always you dump the shit that clung to your boots – supposedly worth its weight in gold – on innocent hosts?" – he snarled.

"Not all is gold that glitters, diamonds in the rough ... "

"Shut it, Mithrandir! Don't push me further. Get that scum of yours to behave and I might not flog them - naked - back into the woods."

After much supplication and begging by the Messenger of the Valar the Elf Lord relented.

"I will not kill them, nor will I cast them out. But I will make them wish – "do not do onto the elf" ..."

The Company was woken up by kicks of heavy battle boots and prods of spears. The valiant Ori needed two kicks and several gauntleted blows to the face (he spat blood for two days afterwards) before he succumbed. Bilbo was spared the blows and prods and allowed to accompany the whining and whimpering Company and its Elven guards. The Hobbit was quietly assured that nothing ill will happen to the dwarrow – unless they were very, very foolish, thus proving to be unfit to live. And that the limits imposed on the habitation and movements of the Sons of Aule did not apply to him. Amidst wailing and crying - Thorin whining the loudest - the dwarrow were herded by kicks and prods - and jerked to their feet by their hair or beards if they fell - towards the limits of Rivendell's build up area.

The Noble Figwit, leading the elvish dwarf-clearing detail, swept his arm and pointed to the area marked out with stakes driven into the stony ground and rope extended betwixt them. The perimeter ran half circle around some half-decayed sheds on the bank of a stream.

"These are the old swine sheds. Your behaviour has shown that such a place befits you best. Leaving the space marked by rope, if unsummoned and unaccompanied, means death. You can leave Imladris, though. Just take this path down the stream. Please do so, free us of your stench."

"This is an insult" – several dwarrow, finding their feet and courage beneath them, cried out, Gloin the loudest.

Figwit shrugged and spat towards the impromptu and indignant Occupy Imladris movement.

"How are the likes of you – who invade the homes of their hosts with no shred of restraint nor respect – are even capable of grasping such a concept like "insult" – is beyond me. Designate groups of three to clean up your filth in the Hall. They will later bring your rubbish from the pigsty you have made in the Hall. Once you have picked the dwarves for the clean-up detail notify the guard above. He will arrange for an escort." – the young Noldo concluded his task.

Throwing his raven hair over his shoulder the Lesser Steward of Imladris turned his back at the dwarrow, ignoring the sounds of at least one of those _yrch_ trying to catch up with him. He stopped yet kept his back to the stunted creature, waiting for the inevitable scream of pain.

"WAAAA!"

"That was the warning arrow." - the handsome brunette smirked and threw the words over his shoulder, not seeing – as Figwit was too tall – exactly which dwarf had an arrow in the thigh. It did not matter, only the lesson learned did.

"Behave and you will live, and the Lord Elrond – begged as he was by Mithrandir – will let you stay until the Moon is right."

.

And so Thorin's Company spent a fortnight at Imladris, confined to the ruined pigsties, under the eagle eyed gaze of elven sentries in guard towers above, and to great relief of the regular inhabitants. Even the inquisitive ten year Estel, seeing and smelling the squalor in which the Arda Fate Changers chose to delve, kept away.

* * *

AN:

yrch - Sindarin for "orc"; used figuratively for dwarrow behaviour


End file.
